


Peace?

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Rating: PG-13, character: megatron, character: optimus prime, genre: drama, genre: humor, verse: g1, warning: au, warning: canon- what canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3632637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> The war is over, and Megatron’s got Cybertron.  It’s a LOT of work rebuilding a planet, and it’d be easier if his ward wasn’t such a pain in the aft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace?

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** G1  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** PG-13  
>  **Characters:** Megatron, Optimus Prime  
>  **Warnings:** Post-War Imprisonment  
>  **Notes:** A prompt from masumi5. The request can be found **[here](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/191244.html?thread=3074828#t3074828) **.
> 
> **The Prompt:** _I don't know if you can make a short one of this: http://tf-bunny-farm.livejournal.com/425140.html. But if you can, great!_

Megatron stood before the door of his apartment, trying to brace for what waited on the other side. For so long he had fought a war, sent mechs to die, killed and maimed, and yes, even tortured. He had ruled an army with fear and violence, and when he was willing to be perfectly honest with himself, he had worried about how capable he was to rule in peace.

Peace, as it turned out, wasn’t so difficult so much as occasionally tedious. They were all on a learning curve for the rebuilding of Cybertron as well as the recreation of their society, but what was proving to be difficult were the Autobots. Not all. Some seemed truly grateful not to be enslaved, imprisoned, or killed. They accepted -if not exactly embraced- being the wards of capable Decepticons as they learned to fit into a society they had never anticipated living in. They used their skills in required work, but they weren’t the only ones. There were _no_ idle hands on Cybertron, be they former Autobot or Decepticon, and no one was pushed past endurance. There was a zero tolerance policy against abuse in place as well.

The war and violence of it _had_ to be put down and left to rust in the past. They couldn’t form a society and culture on the backs of slaves. Not one Megatron could believe in anyway, and he was thinking long-term here. A future uprising of slaves would only be a waste. Far better not to have slaves or oppressed at all, and it was just a matter of showing everyone that they all really could live and work together to stabilize their new society. Fighting was not allowed. Violence was punished with work detail and a lecture Megatron purposely made as boring and long and mind-numbing as possible to discourage further negative behavior.

Besides, if he could control his temper and rein in the urge to strangle his ward, then everyone else could manage their emotions too. At least they didn’t have to Optimus-proof their homes.

“I know you’re there,” a muffled voice said through the door. “I hacked the security feed. How long are you just going to stand there today?”

Hacked the- Primus.

Megatron would have indulged in a good mug rub, but not with his Pit-spawn Autobot watching. Very well. He keyed in the code, careful to block the camera so Optimus couldn’t see it and escape, and prayed nothing too expensive needed replaced today. Optimus was determined to ‘save’ his loyal Autobots, but really the only ones that were unhappy and putting up a fuss were doing so because their Prime was almost continuously locked up in Megatron’s apartment. They didn’t like taking orders from Decepticons, but it was _only_ Optimus who seemed to think -no matter the proof to the contrary- that they were exposed daily to atrocities too heinous to contemplate.

Yet contemplate Optimus did. Then accuse. Then rail and rage. Then destroy the furniture.

Damn it. Megatron had worked hard to restore that sofa, and Mixmaster had done an incredible job with the cushioning.

“Welcome home,” Optimus said with a smug tone.

‘Home’ was a wreck. Again. And Megatron sighed as he crossed to the energon dispenser. _That_ he had to keep locked. The first day Optimus discovered he could draw more than one cube, the brat had splashed - _wasted_ \- energon all over the floors, walls, and ceilings of every room. “I see you’ve had a busy day.”

“You could take me out,” Optimus said, following.

Megatron gave him the first cube, then drew another for himself. The Prime must be hungry, this one was consumed instead of thrown in his face like the day before. “The last time I took you out,” Megatron said, “you tried to flee, ended up causing three accidents, set back the road construction crew a month’s worth of work, and nearly offlined that little blue Racer who’s such a good messenger.” He leaned back against the counter and faced Optimus. “You’ve promised to forever try to ‘escape’ and destroy what others are working so hard to rebuild, despite seeing proof that the other Autobots are fine and even trying to find a place for themselves in this new society.”

“Lies.” Blue optics narrowed, and Megatron shook his helm. He was too tired to replay the same, exhausting argument yet again. Better to see what he needed to do to make his berth sufficient for recharge before it got too late.

“One day, Optimus, you’ll decide to stop enacting petty, pointless vengeance upon me for imaginary crimes.”

“They’re not imaginary! I _know_ what you do to them! Why else would they pretend to be so happy except to avoid more torment?”

Megatron turned around, and for a moment it was staggering to realize the sheer depth of Prime’s hatred for him. It was right there, burning blue and cold in his optics. Maybe he should recharge with his berthroom door locked too. He locked Optimus’ for the sake of peace and quiet during the night, but maybe two locks between them would be safer? No, safer for Megatron would never convince Optimus that there could be some semblance of peace between them. Daring was more Megatron’s style anyway.

With a shake of his helm, Megatron sent a message to Soundwave and Starscream. If he woke up dead, then it meant Optimus might truly be without hope of fitting into their society, but he was tired of this game. It was high time to change the rules. “Good night, Optimus.” He didn’t even bother to shut his own door. If the glitch killed him, well, that would suck slag, but Starscream, Soundwave, and even Prowl could handle things without him and Optimus there to lead. Megatron cleared a spot on the floor, grabbed the least-destroyed of his bolsters, and laid down.

His last sight before forcing recharge was of the absolutely stunned expression on Optimus’ face.


End file.
